My Girl
by lavenderskyxx
Summary: She looks startled, and I can see the guilt and arousal swimming in her eyes. Part of me thinks I’m a pansy for even being able to tell what she’s feeling, but my breath hitches because she looks so damn beautiful like this. Derek/Casey/Truman. One-shot.


Hi everyone! I've been watching a lot of Glee (: and I've been absorbed with Puck&Rachel who are basically the Glee version of Derek&Casey. I wrote this with some of their spirit in mind, but only because these characters are so similar! Also inspired by the song 'Center of Attention' by Jackson Waters. I'm pretty sure this is a one-shot and it's supposed to be sometime after Truman cheats on Casey; and Derek doesn't try to set up Casey with Truman.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own LWD. This is edging on M for heavy swearing & sexuality.

**My Girl**

"I can't do this." _Fuck_.

What the _hell _is wrong with me? She's sprawled all over me, her long smooth legs intertwined with mine, her skirt bunched up around her waist. Her hair is a mess, cascading over her shoulders and my chest; her mouth is parted and her pink lips swollen. She looks startled, and I can see the guilt and arousal swimming in her eyes. Part of me thinks I'm a pansy for even being able to tell what she's feeling, but my breath hitches because she looks so damn beautiful like this.

She looks down, away from me, and I feel like an asshole because she was so confident coming in here and now it was completely shot. "W-what's wrong?" she says, and I have to take a second to think about what she even said because I'm still distracted by her body pressing against mine.

I reached up and cup her face, smoothing her cheekbone with my thumb. She shivers against me and I can't help but smirk, because I_ fucking love_ the effect I have on her. It's kind of nice when the girl you secretly pined after for years, who you thought hated you, reacts to you as if it's second nature to her. It still blows my mind a little bit. So why did I stop this crazy hot make out session on my bed?

It's not just because I'm a super wuss or an idiot.

It's 'cause I had to go and _fall in love_ with the damn girl. I know what you're thinking. Since when does Derek Venturi know anything about love, much less go falling in it? Hell, beats me.

It was the night Casey and I came back from Toronto, and douchey mcdoucherson had to go and be well – a douche. I mean, I understand the whole Vicky appeal but shit, I only did that because the girl looked so much like her cousin. You didn't even really have to squint or put a whole lot of imagination into it. But Truman _had _Casey. So, not only was he a douche, he was just a dumbass without a clue in the world.

I told myself that I wasn't staying awake because I wanted to make sure Casey went to sleep alright. That also required telling myself that I hadn't listened to her cry in her room on various occasions and felt like the biggest asshole on the planet because I had too much pride to do anything.

The click of her door brought me out of my thoughts, and I ran a hand through my hair, convincing myself that I _had_n't been thinking about Casey constantly for the past three hours.

That's when the sobbing began. That's when I broke through whatever bullshit reasons I had for not going into her room. That's when I told her some stupid shit about her being better off without him, and all the trite crap anybody would spew in this situation. That's when she stopped crying and noticed how close we were sitting on her bed.

That's when her hand grazed my chest, and that's when I became hers for rebound sex.

I knew that, and I _let_ her. I shouldn't have, but I _wanted_ her. I wanted her so much that I had been hard in half a second, and not only that. It felt like I was sitting on top of a rollercoaster, that feeling of trepidation and anxiousness, and then the fear and the excited release when it finally went down. Then repeat. Over and over, in my chest. I knew I had it bad for this chick. Especially when I used words like trite and trepidation, and knew that her keener was rubbing off on me something fierce.

I felt myself literally shaking, having her in my arms (_finally_) and touching her (_I should've introduced Vicky to Truman a long time ago_). Kissing her was so ridiculously hot that it was difficult to keep my control and not lose my shit. Gripping her soft hair in my hands while her hands ran up underneath my shirt, I could feel whatever tension building up between us over the years, breaking like successive dams and creating this unreal intensity.

The next morning, there weren't any words needed. It was the most unbelievable night of our lives, but it couldn't happen again. I'm her step brother, she just broke up with her boyfriend, I was just a rebound, hell we don't even really like each other. Most of all, she wanted her independence back.

As I silently watched her get dressed, hiding herself because all the confidence had been zapped out of her, I felt the strongest urge to punch the shit out of something. Truman would be a nice place to start, but she wouldn't appreciate that.

Even though Casey annoyed the fuck out of me, was too uptight and needed to calm the fuck down most of the time, I really respected her confidence and her independence. She didn't depend on anybody to get her through her life. She worked hard for everything, and even though she didn't always get what she wanted (usually my fault), she still strived to be perfect – at least what she thought was perfect.

_I'd tell her a few months later that she was always perfect to me._

But now? Casey was living inside a shell of herself. It was disturbing almost, and I knew she needed time to get her shit together. This fucking _gorgeous as hell_ girl was about to lose her shit _over a guy_. That was unheard of, but I'd seen the beginnings of it with Max. She was always going on tirades about independence and how she prided herself on it, but now she was so far gone that I just couldn't say anything to her.

I was half afraid that she hated me, that maybe she thought I took advantage of her. I wouldn't blame her. But then she laid her huge blue eyes on me, and she knew that I loved her. I'd deny this fact for a long time, but we knew. I didn't want her to know, but most of all, I just didn't want her to go after me if she wasn't ready to face the shit that we'd have to undoubtedly face.

I'd give her all the time she needed, and even if that meant never being with her again, I could handle that. I could just as easily fall out of love, right? Shut up.

So when she came into my room this morning, three weeks after she dumped Truman, all over me like she'd been denied the pleasures of the great Venturi for too long, I was scared I'd freak out and lose it before I could do anything great. Fuck that shit though, I went with it because it was hot and yeah, okay, I missed her like crazy. We had barely even talked after that night, but any glance or slight touch would make her so flustered that I was able to keep my pride after all.

But as soon as my idiot conscience stepped in, and I saw all the translucent layers of confidence shed, leaving that painfully vulnerable and hurting look in her eyes, I knew it was a right decision to stop.

"You won't let me let you go, that's what's wrong." I muttered, willing myself to calm down. The girl was still on top of him after all, and he was a living, breathing, young male.

"What do you mean?" she said, and I felt any remaining heat in my body drain away. She always answered with questions now, and never babbled incessantly anymore. I missed that, I missed it so much that I felt like a girl with my eyes burning and shit. I moved to sit up, my hands on her sides to keep a hold on her so that she wouldn't try to run away.

She refused to look at me, and I _hated_ that shit because she was the one girl who never backed down to me and always held her stance and held my gaze, no matter the situation.

"I mean, Case, that Truman fucked you up and you need to get your shit together." She pursed her lips, and I thought it was adorable because I knew she wanted to tell me off for cursing more than once in a single utterance.

"That was so long ago, Derek." she sounded slightly annoyed, and I looked away, trying to think about what I should say next without sounding like a total pansy but not an asshole either.

"Casey, you're a bitch and you're annoying." She looked up at me, and I could see tears rimming in her eyes, and she opened her mouth to yell at me but I pulled her flush against me, inhaling her scent as I leaned on her neck. "But that's what makes you so hot, you know what you want and you know who you are and you usually do so without needing anybody. You're so beautiful, because you never feel the need to step on anybody else to get where you want."

I heard her breath hitch, and I smirked because I knew I had stolen her heart a little. I was pretty much awesome.

"You don't need me to feel like you're pretty, and you don't need to use me to feel like you can be you again." I pulled back, looking at her face, taking in all her features.

"Derek, I never meant to—"

"Shh. That night was hot, babe. I don't mind. But you and I know that this is messed up." I sighed, running my fingers through her hair, and mussed it up a little bit because it always looks sexy when she's not all prim and proper.

"Don't you want me? Is there something wrong with me?" her voice broke, and I felt my heart break a little along with it. I scowled angrily, cupping her face with both hands this time.

"Casey, fuck. No. You're like, ridiculously pretty and smart, and surprisingly funny. You might be too much of a keener sometimes, and you can be too uptight, but it's only because I feel like a loser next to you. Do you hear yourself right now? You know you're hot shit, yet you let Truman break you. I just need you to like, be the Casey that I've come to know and lo- like you know, loathe and shit." Great, I almost laid out my uterus there.

If she noticed my slip up, she didn't mention it. I loved her for it, among other things. Heh. I was losing it.

I basically told her to work out her shit and maybe we can have a go at those whirlwind romances she's always swooning and going on about. Except, Casey apparently lost some of her intelligence too when she decides to set me up with Emily, and go with both of us to the prom.

I _really wish_ she noticed my slip up. I guess I was dead wrong when I thought she knew how I felt about her. I mean, she wasn't the kind of girl who would ignore her feelings if she thought it was necessary.

Okay, she was _exactly_ that kind of girl. Admittedly, our situation isn't ideal – sharing a family and all, but damn, we're hot as hell together. I figure, if she needs to assert her control and gain independence, I'll let her go for it.

But apparently, something was in the water in London because Emily went loco too and convinced Truman to go after Casey, again. Something about how Casey is lonely and shouldn't feel like a third wheel. She rolled her eyes when I said there's enough Venturi love to go around.

So when Truman came 'round the house as we were getting ready to leave, I felt like forgetting about what Casey would and wouldn't appreciate and just getting on with punching his lights out. Which I was a split hair away from doing if Casey hadn't stepped in-between us, and looked up at me with those huge eyes that managed to break me at the worst moments.

But I almost smiled, because she looked like herself again. Before this shithead broke her heart, before Max turned her into a zombie. Much to everyone's surprise, I simply kissed her on her forehead, took a deep breath, and left – only turning to ask if everyone was coming or staying like a bunch of losers.

That's when Casey found out that Truman hadn't changed at all, when we had all gone to an after party and Casey thought she had reconciled with the bastard. Nope, my girl just wasn't that lucky. I wasn't happy about it, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't relieved that she realized Truman was a lost cause.

I was slipping off my tie when I felt her arms wrap around me from behind, and I sighed at the feeling of the warmth and her chest pressing into my back. I didn't need to look at her to know that she was back at square one. I didn't need to look at her to know that she would be using me again tonight.

I turned to kiss her deeply, feeling amazing that she was responding to me so eagerly. But I felt like utter shit too. Because I knew she'd have to find herself again, because she still hadn't fully recovered the first time. The smell of her perfume and her body made me go crazy, but not as much as the way her hands were grasping at my shirt or the way her teeth were pulling at the skin on my neck.

The craziest thing was that I knew she'd leave my room the next morning without a word and we'd do this all over again. But I'll take my time if she wants me to, and I'll give her whatever she needs as long as she wants me to.

Why? Because she's my girl and it just makes sense, even if she doesn't know it yet.

_end. _


End file.
